Page 14 of Veil of Night & Flames

But when I look at Adric’s face—at the way he’s watching me, his eyes bright with something I can’t quite name—I realize this is more than just a ceremony to him. More than a magical exit plan from his castle and grounds. This is everything.

I’m everything.

Without thinking, I let my gaze sweep across the room. I find Chase’s eyes.

He understands, too.

I look swiftly away, my attention back on Adric. “Yes,” I say, because that’s the promise I made to save Chase’s life. But I also mean the words, and that’s a different kind of problem.

I hold up my shoulder-length hair, and he clasps the chain around my neck. I feel the vial settle against my chest, warmer than I’d expected. The room is silent, waiting. And in that pause, I desperately wish I had an anchor—something familiar, but not Chase. Something from my life before I knew any of this dream stuff. Something that grounds me back in the world I’m going to return to.

And then, as if the castle wants to please me, I find him. There. Against the wall.

Uncle Finn.

Someone has put a soft peach-colored robe on him, something he wouldn’t have picked in a thousand years. His glasses sit crooked, and he’s looking at the ceiling with a small, vague smile. He doesn’t see me, but that’s okay. At least he’s here.

I fiddle with my ring, now warm on my finger, and I can’t help but smile. I don’t know why, but having the ring on my finger while the vial is around my neck makes me feel a little bit like Mom’s here. Silly, I know. But I’ll take it.

“My bride,” Adric says, straightening as he extends his hands to me. I take them, soothed by the touch of his skin against mine. “Cora Lyte, I claim you as my betrothed,” he says. “Before this court and this realm. By blood given and blood accepted.”

A sound moves through the hall—a hum, almost. The castle itself vibrates with it, the stones trembling so faintly I almost think I’m imagining it.

Then I feel it. A shift. Like the air pressure changing before a storm, except it’s not the air—it’s the castle. The walls. The foundation.

It’s the curse. And it’s breaking.

Adric feels it too. His hands tighten around mine, and his eyes go wide—not with surprise, but with pure undiluted joy.

“Come,” he says, his voice rough.

He doesn’t wait for protocol or for the congratulations usually thrown at a newly engaged couple. He just takes my hand and pulls us past Chase toward the massive doors at the far end of the throne room. I catch Chase’s eyes for just a second as we pass—he’s not following, but his gaze tracks me as I go.

Then the doors open, and we’re outside.

“How does it feel?” I whisper.

He shakes his head. “We’re still on the castle grounds.” He hurries us down a long sidewalk, then stops at a simple iron gate. Beyond, the desert stretches in every direction. The five moons hang low on the horizon, pale now in the morning. The sand glows, and the wind carries the sulfuric edge I’m starting to think of as the realm’s perfume.

Adric pushes open the gate, then stops. “I’ve not been beyond the castle grounds since before The Breaking.”

I extend my hand for his. “Then I think it’s time.”

He looks at me, rolls his shoulders, then takes two steps as he leaves the castle grounds to walk free in the Nightmare Realm.

And that’s it. There’s no flash of light, no thunderclap, no cosmic fanfare. He just steps forward, and the boundary that held him—the punishment he’d borne for tearing the Guardian apart—is simply gone.

But his face. God, his face.

He lifts his head to the sky, and I watch something move through him that’s neither joy nor relief. It’s bigger than both. He breathes in, and when he exhales, it’s as if something that has been coiled tight inside him has finally let go.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

I nod awkwardly, then dip my head as the enormity of what I’ve done settles over me, along with the terrifying awareness that I did it with another man’s name carved into my heart.

Out of reflex, I glance over my shoulder, and sure enough, Chase followed us. He’s standing in the archway, its stones casting a shadow that masks his expression.

But I can see that it’s not me he’s watching. No, his gaze is aimed firmly at Adric, and what I see on his face isn’t hatred or jealousy or even regret. Instead, I see fear. As if Chase is certain that Adric will use his newfound freedom to burn down the world—just as he’d split the Guardian.